“1: ”Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. “
You sent me this one haha. So I’ll do the others. Thanks for this though, gonna hit your inbox soon.
7: ”Talk about your biggest insecurity. “
Biggest? Hmmmmmmm. I think it is the feeling of not being remarkable or a pleasure to know in any way. I think I’ve seen so many effervescent and charismatic, gravitational people and just felt despondent that I wasn’t one of them. My dad, who really knows me more than anyone in the world and who I alienate the most because of it, always goes into these things when I talk to him, about how I am those things, and I always want to bring up every single time I’ve felt worthless and been treated like I’m worthless, like I’m not enough to be decent to, like I have no humanity at all. But where I lack charisma and magnetism I make up for in self dramatization. I just have this grand idea of how I would be if I could’ve picked the person I am, and instead I turned out the complete antithesis
14: ”Talk about a vacation. “
I’ll share another story from my European adventures this past winter! when I got to Venice I came in by train from Milan, very late, so when I got there it was Christmas. I actually sobbed on the train because I forgot to stamp my ticket, sat in the wrong area, ended up paying more, and it was Christmas and lonely lonely etc. but when I got there it was incredible, because it had to have been 1am and the train drops off at this one off station in some suburb or whatever you’d call it a little ways off from Venice, and I’d need to take a ferry to get to my hostel. So I leave this station with authority, so no one would think I was lost and try to fuck with me, but I had nofuckingclue where I was and how to get where I was going. I ended up just waiting for a bus, which came, and I spent my last bit of cash buying a ticket for, that dropped me off in another place I had no fucking clue about, but at least there were more people there. So after reassuring myself from a panic attack, I just followed people walking across a bridge, and they led me to the ferry I needed to take. Great! Tickets were very expensive. Not great. I decided to take my chances just getting on without a ticket. I’m exhausted, it’s late, my bag is heavy, I just want to get on. The ferry comes, I get on, it’s packed, families with Christmas presents coming home from parties. I sit back and try not to sleep, I’m the last stop, all the while hoping there’s no ticket check. Now, mind you, the hostel I was staying at had front desk hours until 10pm. It was now 1.30am. I naively thought, well I might not be able to check in but I’ll probably still be able to wait around inside until check in time. I manage to find it, and it’s a buzz door. Check in at 9am. So basically I was screwed. Long story short because this is dragging, I ended up roaming Venice a lot, which is far from the worst place to be without accommodation in, the most magical place in the world. obviously it’s Christmas so everything is closed. I tried to sit at the ferry stop under lights and read Madame Bovary, had a run in with a very confused driver who didn’t know why I wasn’t getting on the ferry and didn’t speak a lick of English. Finally I found a “taxi” (gondola) gazebo, closed on all sides, with a door, and that is where I slept. I slept in a little taxi gazebo wearing two sweaters, a coat, two pairs of socks, with my duffle bag as my pillow for six hours, waking up at intervals to check the time. Eventually I found a cafe that was open and stayed there until I could check in. It was honestly incredibly amazing. Here’s a picture I took near the hostel!
Bonus story, a similar thing happened when I hit Rome, but I also ran into a saint named Raffaelo who took me into his cafe, gave me pastries and cigarettes, literally walked me to three different hotels before one gave me a room so I wouldn’t roam the streets all night. I would not recommend that though, it could have gone very very wrong, the thought of being kidnapped and sex trafficked crossed my mind a couple times.
16: ”Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to. “
My brother and his friends throw these parties at our house in the summers sometimes when everybody’s in Chicago. one of the parties there were literally at least a hundred people there, in the house, in the backyard, spilling out into the front yard and street. the cops showed up and pulled out me and my best friend sitting in my closet. it was amazing. I had my best friends there and some old friends and so many people I knew.
38: ”Talk about songs that remind you of certain people. “
This is really fucked because I can’t believe I’m talking about him so much, the first heartbreak guy. I’m like, bizarrely nostalgic about him, because I’ve started dreaming about him again for some strange disconcerting reason, but every Grizzly Bear song reminds me of him, we shared a mutual love. Nelly Furtado’s I’m Like A Bird always reminds me of my best friend, who unfortunately I don’t think I can call that anymore, but it was our favorite as like six year olds? I have a lot of songs that remind me more of periods of time rather than just people, feelings of that period in time which I like a lot better
Mostly bad things. Some good things. I started smoking a lot more than I had ever before, a lot more, this fall when anxiety set in hard, a lot of things were left hanging when I flew back to my chosen home and a lot of confusion came with me. Sometimes I take walks, need music with that, Fiona A or Lykke (resurgence, listened exclusively to her Youth Novels with Radiohead In Rainbows in summer 2008 when that whole heartbreak, which is suddenly very relevant now, happened) for choice most times. on the subject of In Rainbows—because all pretentiousness aside that album means the most to me—I’ve got to go into a story. I listened to In Rainbows on a loop on a bus back to Paris from Milan, and it was a special trip for a couple reasons, one because I was absolutely fucking exhausted from traveling for weeks by myself, during the holidays, and I had been grounded in Rome for way longer than I expected and couldn’t finish the itinerary I carefully planned, so at that point I was lonely and felt very alone and void of love and sad and just wanted to be back in Paris. My bus was late at night, so it went through northern Italy, and it passed these tiny towns that were little dots of light on mountains and hills, and stopped at the Mont Blanc base (the most European thing I’ve ever seen is a group of people get off the bus and huddle together to smoke in heavy, heavy snowfall there) where Italy, France and Switzerland meet, and once we got into France the sun was slowly slowly rising, in blue tones, and I was listening to Weird Fishes/Arpeggi and everything was just calm calm. the fields were calm, the bus was calm, people were sleeping. I looked over at one point and a little boy that sat next to a man, totally unconnected, was leaning on his arm sleeping, and the man slept against the window and I felt so happy to see it. It was a seven hour bus ride, a really great one, one I won’t forget.
39: ”Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier. “
I guess for one that I had a life’s worth of time to hate myself and I didn’t need to start at eight years old, and fill myself with so much anger and venom and just been kinder and gentler with people, and appreciate the moments with those who I was close to for the great ones they were, cause “money can’t buy you back the love that you had then”
40: ”Talk about the end of something in your life.”
This is tricky because it feels like a lot of things are ending in my life now, a lot of relationships, a lot of friendships. Some abruptly and some just fester in death. I hold myself responsible always. I can’t think of anything that has ended definitively. I’ve only lived such a small fraction of my life, who’s to say things won’t pop up later on
1: ”Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie.
It is Marie Antoinette, and the first time I watched it I actually really hated it for some reason. Like it just didn’t click. It took a second viewing in the summer of 07—one of the best ever—for me to really dive into the whole thing, the costumes, visuals (Sofia fucking Coppola, #1 inspo), tone, that fucking soundtrack. It makes me feel real good things. Going to Versailles this past fall, listening to all my favorite songs of all time walking around the gardens and canals, is one of the highlights and frankly most beautiful experiences of my life.
5: ”Talk about the best birthday you’ve had. “
Mmm, I had a really great birthday week senior year in high school, actually really awesome, my eighteenth. I had my birthday and a couple friends and I just happened to meet this Bulgarian guy in the park and he bought us all milkshakes (funny story, he took us to a lot of places after that, it was kind of like Charlie’s Angels), then the day after my birthday I found out I got accepted to NYU Tisch so it was pretty rad. I usually like my birthday though because it’s in the dead of spring
11: ”Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had. “
I truthfully can’t think of a best dream. But I did have a dream a little while after my grandma and favorite human to ever live (shared dually with her husband) died, where she spoke directly to me and I could kind of feel her words going through me. I don’t remember what she said, but I could feel her presence there, like her spirit was there with me. Maybe it was her way of saying to me she wasn’t going anywhere, I don’t know.
15: ”Talk about the time you were most content in life. “
I was actually thinking about this today because I started to wonder if there has ever been a time in my life I’ve genuinely been happy, which is sad. The only thought I could come up with was when I still had some delusion that things in my life, particularly people, were forever and it would be a long time coming before they weren’t anymore. My grandma, again, who I spent half of my life with died two summers ago and a lot of family has died since. Relationships I had with people have died, friendships have died, etc. So I think that general time of just being a kid who had the love and presence of a loving family was the most content time. Not that that has necessarily changed, now I’m just consumed by anxiety about who I’ll lose next.
20: ”Talk about something that happened in high school. “
Just anything? A hell of a lot happened ha. Sometimes I think about high school and I get a really sickening feeling that I somehow “peaked” when I was there, in the lamest sense because I was shit in high school but I’m even more shit now so comparatively, you know. I think in high school I felt more special and creative and unique and intelligent, which I miss. I used to feel really fucking intelligent and clever. That was my pride and joy. I had like, this huge superiority complex from kindergarten to high school graduation. It’s funny, I had simultaneously a superiority and an inferiority complex. But a lot of really good things happened in high school, surprisingly. A lot of great memories; I couldn’t just pick out one. I had my first real heartbreak in high school, I guess is one, which is distinctly not a great memory. But that really continued on into adulthood and still does really. But silver lining, some of the best things I ever wrote was in response to that.
32: ”Talk about a place you remember from your childhood. “
Same with this! I feel so lucky that a lot of my memories are lovely ones. So many places, honestly. But I’ve been thinking a lot about a neighborhood I went to high school in and spent a lot of time in previous to that and during school, and it was really like a playground where anything could happen it felt like. When I was way younger than high school age my brother and I would go around there in summers (or downtown to visit my dad at his office) and I have the fondest memories of listening to CDs (Maroon 5 Songs About Jane what up) in a Borders that obviously is gone now. In high school I would run around there all day with friends and get home late and piss my parents off and at seventeen my then boyfriend and I would skip school a lot and just laze around at his place nearby, smoking cigs and hookah (with vodka if it was a Friday) and eating and playing video games, writing each others’ absence notes. That whole area is pretty much a different place now. A bunch of buildings and structures I passed every day were knocked down to build a hotel, that Borders is like an Akira or some shit now; everything about it is different. I went by this past summer for a little and the feel was all different. It was really sad actually. Sorry all of this is such a bummer!
"…The fainting eyelids droop, and giddy Fear Thrusts with both hands the soul towards the pit Where, like a Lazarus from his winding-sheet, arises from the gulf of sleep a ghost Of an old passion, long since loved and lost.”
excerpt from Charles Baudelaire’s ‘The Flask’ (Le Flacon) from “Flowers of Evil (Les Fleurs du Mal)”
think about dropping all plans and moving to a bright white apartment in Stockholm or Oxford or brown natural apartment in Venezia over a stream blowing kisses at gondoliers passing below just feel good
dress like a zara look book eat oatmeal and seeds never fret never sob
music all the time. breezes all the time. shag rugs black trainers blazers thin button ups. trousers, never pants
jumpers jumpers jumpers
no more sirens no more cities that are all noise slow the pace down slow ride down dopamine up serotonin up
WRITING ALL THE TIME
It means some teenagers care more about protecting their phones than their actual bodies that cannot be replaced .
Thanks, but I understood what the thing was saying, which is why I was baffled by the complete stupidity of it. I guess most important is that if ~teenagers~ are not educated on sexual matters that’s very unfortunate, it is a problem, one they don’t deserve to be blamed for. Also, the whole “this generation…” crowd so present in that post is so committed to trying to point out perceived problems with teens that they make sweeping generalizations while trying to be superior about the generation most of you tumblrers belong to. Why not be a little more sympathetic about these issues?
Also also, your sexual health DOES NOT equate to a fucking case on a fucking $200+ cell phone. Repeat: your sexual health ≠ an iPhone case.
seems to me the people that reblogged that and agree with it seem to have a fundamental misunderstanding of sex. it was a stupid “analogy”.
There was a person in me — a piece of me — however you want to describe it — so damaged that she was prepared to see me dead to find peace.
That part of me, living alone, hidden, in a filthy abandoned lair, had always been able to stage a raid on the rest of the territory. My violent rages, my destructive behaviour, my own need to destroy love and trust, just as love and trust had been destroyed for me. My sexual recklessness — not liberation. The fact that I did not value myself. I was always ready to jump off the roof of my own life. Didn’t that have a romance to it? Wasn’t that the creative spirit unbounded?
No. Creativity is on the side of health — it isn’t the thing that drives us mad; it is the capacity in us that tries to save us from madness. The lost furious vicious child living alone in the bottom bog wasn’t the creative Jeanette — she was the war casualty. She was the sacrifice. She hated me. She hated life.
”—Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? (via narratrix)